On New Playground the prequel
by Lenidrabbles
Summary: COURTING SIN. After 'Graduation 2' Buffy and Angelus are on the way to L.A. This picks up where Grateful left off - go to kitd gemini to read that story
1. 1,01

After she stepped into the shower, with him a second behind her, it was as if their conversation as he removed her clothes had not happened. They acted as if he had not taken the thick bandage at her neck along with her shirt, as if he hadn't acknowledged her sacrifice (and really, had he done that at all?), as if their exchange, in any other couple, wouldn't have amounted to a declaration of…

Of something.

Her head dropped back against his chest. "I'm so tired."

Of pretending, she didn't say.

Angel held her tighter. "Let's get you into bed."


	2. 1,02

His hands were precise as he worked the towel around her hair. No words, no attempt to divest her of the single layer of terrycloth, not one joke about her sudden vulnerability.

The first time he'd taken the time to pamper her like this, she'd been bruised and half unconscious after an evening with Cordelia and murderous hunters in the woods.

Angel had been furious, yet careful as he'd handled her.

Much like she'd reacted two nights ago when he'd been shot.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked now.

Buffy smiled. "We need to be near death more often."


	3. 1,03

The warmth in the air told her that dawn had come and it would be a hot day. If she'd asked Angel, he would have told her the exact moment the sun had risen, but Buffy hadn't spent the last two years as a vampire's girlfriend without learning a trick or two.

The tension in Angel's posture was another giveaway. He would deny it, of course, just like she would deny being unnerved by spiders and ancient prophecies that decreed her death.

"What?" he snapped, lifting the covers to get into bed with her.

Buffy turned the lamp off. "Nothing."


	4. 1,04

If she were in unknown territory, with one flimsy curtain between her and certain death, Buffy would be as restless as her bed partner; but that wasn't tacit permission for his hands to make their way under her t-shirt. She rolled away and elbowed him back to his side of the mattress. "No way," she mumbled into the pillow. "I'm sleeping."

He responded by grabbing onto her breast.

"Such a romantic."

"I helped lure Richard to your trap. Where's my reward?"

"You already got it," she informed him, arching her neck to make her meaning obvious. "Now let me sleep."


	5. 1,05

When Angel rose to his feet, muttering about ungrateful Slayers and rooms better described as dumpsters, Buffy ignored the rant and stretched arms and legs to her satisfaction. "Mmm." She added his flat pillow to the flatter one under her head. "Much better…."

She wasn't surprised when the noises after that turned soft, almost nonexistent. Whenever he was cooped up in the mansion with nothing better to do, Angel always resorted to practicing Tai Chi forms.

The first time she'd caught him at it, she thought it was the most beautiful view in the world.

Shame the room was dark.


	6. 1,06

It was impossible to sleep.

They'd discovered that the air conditioner was broken, and were by then unable to leave the room even if they'd been assigned a new one. As a result, it was becoming too hot and she felt the sweat run down the back of her neck even after she'd kicked off the covers.

What made things worse was the unrelenting prickling sensation under the bandage she'd reapplied after her shower. All she wanted was to scratch at the spot, maybe kick Faith for targeting it and almost taking her head off.

Don't scratch.

Don't scratch.

Don't….


	7. 1,07

"For someone who claimed exhaustion as a way out of a quickie," Angel noted as he turned on the bedside lamp, "you're remarkably awake."

Buffy groaned. Having changed into one of his older t-shirts, one she remembered from the times he hadn't challenged her sanity and which she'd appropriated during a particularly peaceful week between them, Buffy hadn't wanted to stain it in case her wound reopened. "It itches."

A chortle made its way out of his chest. In the next second, the new bandage laid on the floor. "Really, Buff. As if I'd let one drop go to waste."


	8. 1,08

When Angel leaned down to press his lips against hers, she was expecting the kiss. When he carried her back into the bathroom and deposited her slowly in the shower, she tried to find the hidden reason for his behavior.

"I could have come on my own," she told him, but allowed him to position her under the cold spray of water. "Oh…." Now that she didn't have to worry about high school residue and demon guts clinging to her skin, she could bask in the delicious sensation of fresh water on her body.

Angel licked her shoulder. "You're welcome."


	9. 1,09

His lips skirted the top of her breasts, making their way to a different objective. The slow trek towards her neck had no hint of shyness or regret, rather a heated anticipation that echoed in the grasp of his hands and the hardness of his body.

"If I said no…."

Angel bit down on the skin covering her clavicle. "Say it."

Her hand moved to curl around his hair, perhaps to yank him away, perhaps to press him closer. "No."

Blunt teeth sharpened against her skin, just a little. "Prove it."

Hand-to-hand, she would win; they both knew it. "No."


	10. 1,10

They made love in the shower, lights off and water freely running over them.

After they returned to the bed, Buffy found herself waiting fruitlessly for sleep to claim her.

It was strange to lie awake beside him when he was unconscious. While part of her wanted to Angel to trust her to guard his sleep; a larger part wished that he'd never found out how far she would go to protect him.

How much would he take for granted now? How far would he push her, when he'd already brought her to the limit of what she could accept?


	11. 2,01

_Author's Note:_ _This second part will be divided between the present tense (post Graduation 2) and a flashback to a year earlier (post Anne)_

**xxx**

Two hours ago, when she'd realized they wouldn't make it to L.A. before dawn, Buffy had believed that it wouldn't take long before she succumbed to sleep. It hadn't even mattered that all they could find was a cheap motel in the middle of the road, a place she never would have considered if she'd been on her own.

Of course, were she on her own, she never would have left Sunnydale.

But she wasn't alone. Not anymore.

And even rock hard mattresses with more uncomfortable pillows to match were better than a pile of ashes on the driver's seat.


	12. 2,02

_"Why don't you sun-proof the car?" she'd asked once, and watched in surprise as Angel's face lit up in a smile. It had reminded her so much of the weeks leading up to her seventeenth birthday, when they'd been living in a world of their own, that she felt her heart twist in her chest._

_"You sure you want to know?"_

_The dark edge in his voice should have been at odds with the contentment of that smile, and yet they fit each other when they belonged to him. "No," Buffy said, acknowledging the implied warning. "But tell me anyway."_


	13. 2,03

Now she stared at the ceiling, not sure she _wanted_ to fall asleep anymore. Outside, she could hear the noises that came with the advent of sunlight, the doors opening and closing through the motel, the voices that rose in volume the brighter the world became.

If she walked outside, she would be welcomed as one of them. There would be waves and polite smiles, perhaps small talk where strangers liked to exchange grievances they wouldn't tell their loved ones.

Buffy could mention how much senior year had sucked, and everybody would nod their heads and commiserate.

What a sham.


	14. 2,04

_"Blackened windows will never blend in, not in Sunnydale." Angel had flicked his hand around the crowded parking lot, as if daring her to defy his theory._

_Buffy had looked around, unable to resist a challenge, but had to give up after a quick look at every car in her line of sight. There were a couple vintages, some even older than Angel's; but if any of the owners had been forced to change the original windows, none of them had bothered to discontinue the use of clear ones._

_"You want to… blend in?"_

_He'd stared at her. "Don't you?"_


	15. 2,05

If she joined their morning routine, the humans outside would have no idea of how different she was. They would see a blond teenager, out for breakfast while her boyfriend slept in; at most the men would smirk at her, and perhaps one of them would make an off-color joke outside what they assumed was her earshot range, laughing about how she'd tired out her lover the night before.

They wouldn't think to be afraid of the man sleeping in her bed.

They'd laugh harder if someone told them to be afraid of _her_.

How could they know any better?


	16. 2,06

_It had never stopped to baffle her that, after everything, Angel could still arrange his looks into that patient face. The one that said that she was a stubborn girl, and that she should follow his suggestions to the letter or at least be more intimidated by warnings of great danger._

_That he'd looked at her like that on that night, after the ordeal that had been her summer visit to L.A., had angered her more than every transgression he'd committed during that same summer._

_Who was he to judge her?_

_…and more rankling still: why couldn't she ignore him?_


	17. 2,07

Buffy had managed to push the conversation that followed to the back of her head; there had been truths she still hadn't been ready to deal with.

Forgetting had been so easy in the months that followed…

Faith's arrival in town had dragged along more issues than Buffy could be expected to solve. Right after, Wilkins had started the final preparations for his Ascension, throwing the town into turmoil every time he needed to check an item off his to-do list.

When the two of them had joined forces, Buffy had no time to worry about anything else.

…until now.


	18. 2,08

_"I don't need to blend in," she'd said, tightening her jaw around the lie._

_When Angel had looked at her, she had seen his amusement at her effort. "Come, come, Buffy. If that were true, you wouldn't have been playing sweet Daddy's girl not a week ago."_

_"For all the good that did me," she had mumbled, unable to repress the bitter comment._

_"That's not the point." He'd brushed away the reminder of their adventure in L.A. "You did it because, otherwise, someone will wonder about the wrong things and then they'll discover how different you are."_

_"I wouldn't care."_


	19. 2,09

But she cared.

How many times had she avoided meeting the people she rescued? Or, when avoidance was impossible, told them that she was a bewildered passerby and sent them on their way so they wouldn't recognize the figure that had jumped between them and danger?

Even at school, she'd turned down the gym teacher's invitations to join various school sports teams. Even before she'd decided not to attend college, she had declined every offer for scholarships or free entrance into bigger schools than UC Sunnydale.

Because, once in every generation, there was a girl who hated to stand out.


	20. 2,10

_Angel had known that, too._

_Angel always found out everything worth knowing about her. That particular trait had grown more accurate with the years, with the only downside – in his opinion – that she'd learned about him in return._

_But in that moment, none of her knowledge could have shielded her from his response._

_"That's so?" His hand had curved around her shoulder, a parody of camaraderie even as it kneaded the tense knot lodged there. "I suppose you won't mind shedding all pretenses. Let's head over to Rupert's, then."_

_Her biggest fear, he knew that well. How could he not?_


	21. 2,11

She had been right to delay the disclosure of her renewed relationship with Angel, Buffy thought now. Among all the things she had mishandled in the last years, taking into account every mistake and every hesitation that had cost an innocent's life, keeping the truth from her friends was the one thing she refused to feel guilty about.

What would her last year in school have been like if Willow and Xander had spent it watching her with strangers' eyes? Giles' disappointment, she could have endured and matched it with her own. But losing the only humans she could trust?


	22. 2,12

_The thought that Angel would one day make good on his threat had made her voice turn into a low hiss. "It's not the same."_

_"No, it isn't," he'd agreed too easily, still massaging her back as if he was discussing attack techniques while lounging in bed instead of threatening to sever her last ties to a normal life. "Lying to your friends is worse than pretending normality before strangers." When she glared at him, he shrugged. "It is, at least according to your friends' values."_

_"You've never agreed with them!"_

_"But they won't ask for my opinion, will they?"_


	23. 2,13

In the darkness, Buffy remembered those moments when her friends and Angel had worked together. There were hazy memories, only a couple years old and yet as dream-like as a childhood flashback.

During those times when everybody around her had worked side by side, she had hoped that things would work out, that one day she would be able to enter a room with Angel at her side and not see barely disguised frowns on her friends' faces.

Instead, the subtle disapproval had escalated into rightful accusations and demands for Angel's death.

How could she have told them the truth?


	24. 2,14

_"Don't." Buffy had escaped from his grip. "Leave my friends out of this. If I need to pretend around them, it's your fault." She hadn't hesitated at the sudden innocence on his features; let others be fooled by the act._

_"I've never blamed you for doing what your nature dictates," he pointed out, bringing up the other fear she nursed deep in her heart. "We are who we were meant to be, or have you forgotten that?"_

_How could she, when doubts filled her mind?_

_She was the Slayer; that could not be denied._

_But… how human was a Slayer?_


	25. 2,15

The question ate at her even now, when the answer couldn't change anything.

What was it inside her that jumped higher, ran faster, and healed with such great speed? What whispered in her ear about her enemies' weaknesses, no matter how they tried to hide them?

What brought her together with a vampire, once when he'd done little but warn her of unseen dangers, and again when he'd become the most dangerous of all?

Buffy knew about the First Slayer. Angel had done the research and told her the results. What had that girl become? What did that make _her_?


	26. 2,16

_"I'm the Slayer," she'd said, chin held high. Around Angel, her dignity had to be preserved. "I'll never forget that. I won't be allowed to."_

_"That's not what I meant."_

_"It's what you said," she parried back, unwilling to pursue that particular subject. "My friends know who I am, that's what matters."_

_"I see." In the next moment, she was being kissed against a nearby Toyota, the alarm going off around them as Angel pressed his lips against hers. "Say that again – claim that those children know you."_

_"They do!"_

_He smiled. "I like it when you lie to me."_


	27. 2,17

Liar.

That's what _he_ had made of her.

And yet… Buffy turned around, and even in the complete darkness of their rented room, she imagined she could make out the outline of him stretched beside her. He had been the love of her life, the one who'd broken every convention to be with her. He had also been the one to break her heart into so many pieces that she still wasn't sure to have collected them all; he had abandoned her when he should have loved her the most… and then he had reeled her back into his arms.


	28. 2,18

_She had kissed him back. Her hands had grabbed onto his coat until the seams threatened to break under the pressure; her body had maneuvered his until they flipped around and he was the one pressed against the car._

_When they had come apart, she'd looked him in the eye. "You like me better like this."_

_Angel didn't deny it; he even caressed her forehead and left temple in mute approval. "I like you best when you're killing something," he confided, drawing her chin to one side and then to the other. "Of all your faces, that's the truest one."_


	29. 2,19

He had been wrong that night.

She was the stealthiest huntress in the darkness, the shining star among predators, the only one with a purpose.

She was the Slayer.

She _was_.

But the Slayer wouldn't have stayed her hand the night after her seventeenth birthday. When everything had demanded that she destroyed him – not for his sins, not for those he'd destroy if he escaped, but because he dared not to want her, and why should she live with proof of her humiliation? – she had let him go.

That was the real her: the one who chose to keep him.


	30. 2,20

_"That's why everyone else prefers the lie," she had whispered, leaning into Angel's caress. He could be so tender, so aware of her needs; when he'd cast the bait to reclaim her, Buffy had seized it with both hands. "You never cringe after I've just slain something. You've never made me feel nastier than the demon that lies at my feet."_

_"You're talking about your friends." His smirk had been amused at her attempt to hide their identities. "Can you blame them, when you've all but promised them to be a good girl? Good girls don't enjoy the kill, Buffy._"


	31. 2,21

No wonder she had all but erased that night from her memory. At the time she hadn't wanted to deal with that truth.

Now, after the last few days, Buffy couldn't hide anymore.

The Slayer was not just the most agile hunter in the world: she _called_ the hunt. Life without a prey had no meaning, just like love without a challenge would now taste dull and senseless.

She accepted it, even if she was still afraid of what it meant.

…but she wondered how long it would have taken her without Angel to prod her onto the unpalatable truth.


	32. 2,22

_Dismayed, she'd twisted away from him. "I don't –"_

_"Yes, you do." Angel had looked disappointed. "We blend in because otherwise we'd lose our kill," he told her, "but don't take it as permission to lie to yourself."_

_"I don't need to blend in," her earlier protest had reappeared. "I don't want to act like them; I would die before I pretended to be ignorant and unable to protect myself. But I want a place among the others. I want to be one more student in the hallway, just another girl at the mall; after all I've done, I deserve that!"_


	33. 2,23

After a year, did she still want that?

Buffy considered the last weeks, and especially the pink sparkly umbrella that she'd added to her luggage. It had been a shock to hear her name called out; she had even assumed that Cordelia was about to announce her treachery.

Instead it'd been Jonathan waiting for her at the stage, bewildered by Buffy's date – a man from whom she'd rescued him months before – but recovering quickly.

Class Protector.

The award had been the greatest irony of the night, but she hadn't noticed yet.

It was recognition.

Now she wanted more of that.


	34. 2,24

_"Is it wrong to want to fit in?" Buffy had shouted out, and rushed away in the same breath. She'd known that if she stayed, she would fall in the trap waiting at the end of the conversation._

_Perhaps not even that far away._

_She had always been susceptible to his words. He could tell her to be proud and accept her fate, and she would walk into death's jaws; he could whisper that he'd love her forever, or swear that he would destroy her world, and she would believe him._

_He'd never had the decency to lie to her._


	35. 2,25

That last thought made her smile, and she rolled to her side, content to press herself against his colder body.

Angel may have broken her heart once, but never a promise he'd sworn to keep. He could hide vital information, he could sneak out of her sight to meet with her enemies; but all secrets were revealed when they could be used to strengthen her, and those same enemies had ended at the end of her scythe, brought into striking range by her lover.

She trusted him, and when he'd promised a better life in Los Angeles, she'd believed him.


	36. 2,26

_"Trust me on this," Angel had called out. "You'll never fit in!"_

_She'd whirled around, already scowling. "Damn you."_

_Grabbing her elbow, he had pulled her closer. "Look at you. Your eyes alone order me to fall down to my knees and bow my head to your power, and all you want is that I leave you alone." Abruptly, he'd let her loose. "There. You're free."_

_Buffy had glared at him._

_"See? Now you want a fight," he'd laughed. "Accept it, there's fire in you and fire must burn."_

_She'd frozen. "Is that… a compliment?"_

_"To you, it would be."_


	37. 2,27

Her eyes closed, Buffy was smiling at the memory when she felt Angel move his hand to her hip.

"You haven't slept a wink, have you?"

"Neither have you," she responded easily. "At least not in the last twenty minutes or so." Buffy wondered if another Slayer had ever been able to tell the difference between an unconscious vampire and one who was faking it. "But I'm sleepy now."

His hand palmed her bottom. "Really?"

The fact that he'd been first to be proud of everything in her was fresh in her mind. "Guess I'll be sleepier later, won't I?"


	38. 3,01

**Part Three.**

Where we get familiar with a Slayer's dream after a particularly stressful day. I'm honestly not sure about posting this part at , because all the background story (what little there is) is at kitd_gemini dot livejournal dot com slash info. But I thought, oh, wouldn't it be a shame to leave this story incomplete?

Major THANK YOU to KimberlyAnnT. I have no idea why you've stuck with this story, but I _really_ appreciate your support.

x

x

x

When she wakes up, Faith is standing over her. Her face is bruised, but the darker shades aren't enough to hide an awful gash running from the outside corner of her left eye to her chin. "I shot Angelus, he bit you, you sliced at me." Her amusement is palpable despite her appearance. "Nobody knows how to draw a circle like us."

"You would have killed me," Buffy replies, feeling for Angel's presence beside her and reassured when her fingers met the cold of skin.

"Hello, tat. My name's tit." Faith giggles. "You're forgetting, sis. Strictly speaking, you started it."


	39. 3,02

Xander is there when she wakes up in a cave, but relief isn't the most prominent emotion on his expression. "We could have gone on without you; we would have remembered you as the best friend we ever had." He sounds disappointed, a kid burying his first pet. "Why did you come back?"

"You brought me back," she reminds him, already looking around. Angel should be here, she thinks. Why isn't he?

"We would have loved the next girl, in your memory."

_No, you wouldn't have._ But truth hurts, and she doesn't want to hurt Xander. "I never stopped you."


	40. 3,03

The sound of waves flapping on the shore wakes her up. The sky is growing the color of gunmetal around her, those minutes before dawn where the darkness doesn't want to let go.

Tug-of-war in the skies. It doesn't matter that victory is foretold, for it is law that the day shall overcome the night; if the moon doesn't concede defeat, the fight will go on forever, for her power is equal to her brother's.

Once, the moon was called the goddess if the night, the supreme lady of the hunt.

"I get it," Buffy grumbles. "There's always a choice."


	41. 3,04

She knows this place, this moment. Even as she was living it, she wanted to wake up. "What do you want from me?" This is Angel, though everyone has a new name for him. This is Angelus, but she can't give the name of a demon to someone who showers her with weapons and isn't afraid that they will be turned on him, isn't afraid of _her_.

"Don't you know?"

She knows that she shouldn't want it too. "How far do you want to push me, Angelus?"

Using that name doesn't make her run away.

Nothing else has a chance.


	42. 3,05

Willow pinches the back of her hand, little more than a squeeze but enough to call Buffy's attention back to her.

"Ouch." Her friends have finally understood that faster healing doesn't mean that it hurts less; now they treat her almost like they would another girl vulnerable to pain. She counts it as a victory.

Willow snickers, then gives Buffy's hand a couple friendly pats. "Welcome back, sleepyhead. You have to be awake to pick a color!"

Pale pink. Deep dark red.

"You usually have more variety," Buffy complains.

"Sorry." Willow shrugs. "These were the ones that fit you best."


	43. 3,06

Buffy wonders if she should feel dread when faced with this creature. Or perhaps she should be in awe of meeting the one who started it all – except they have always been called when the game was mid-way.

"Why did you choose me?"

The shape shakes its head. _Not me._

Buffy nods in understanding. "Why did they choose you?"

She glimpses a young girl under the wildness, then a thousand faces until hers, then Kendra's and Faith's. They all meet her eyes, and their whisper swells in her heart. "It doesn't matter," she repeats, "because the next move is mine."


	44. 3,07

She wakes up on a sandy beach, working on her tan. "I shouldn't be here," she realizes suddenly, but doesn't move. The sunlight feels invigorating, and a little voice insists that she's gone too long without it.

"Soil nutrients are important, but sunlight makes things grow," Miss Carey says from the towel next to hers. That Biology substitute teacher had lasted three whole months before she tested her theory from six feet under.

Buffy takes off her sunglasses and looks straight at the midday sun above her. "I don't belong here."

It's not an apology, she knows.

It's a challenge.


	45. 3,08

If she steps off the building, she will never wake up again.

"That's right," Angel's voice says from behind her. This is him at his worst. This is the man who gives silver one night and betrays loyalty, friendship, and love by the next afternoon. "Better do it now, while you can do no more damage."

She stares down into nothing. "If you want me dead that badly, push me in." Words she might have said, if she'd known what was masquerading as her lover.

"Jump."

With a shake of her head, she backs from the edge. "Not like this."


	46. 3,09

She's hurting when she wakes up. Terrified, her brain takes a quick roll call; every limb responds without hesitation, strong and young and ready to take over the night. She is whole, yet she cannot be. This – whatever _this_ is – is something that has been carved out of her. It feels… It feels like….

"I can't breathe," she is gasping into Willow's lap, half curled around the other girl. It didn't happen like this, but maybe it should have. "I feel like I can't breathe."

Angel is leaving. Angel is dying.

It's impossible to imagine a difference between the two.


	47. 3,10

Midnight strolls under the full moon will be a more frequent pastime, Buffy decides as she spots a pale pink shell on the sand. It's lovely, but not exactly what she wants. She admires it for one more moment and walks away.

"Did I make the right choice?"

At her side, a girl of slanted eyes and jet black hair morphs into a green-eyed brunette. She shrugs.

"It didn't quite match my ensemble." Buffy gestures to her dress, wine red with golden flame-shaped embroidery. "I need to be myself."

A tall black teenager nods emphatically at that.

Buffy smiles back.


	48. 3,11

It's the night of her seventeenth birthday, and she is happy. "I liked my gift," she tells his shoulder, dropping a kiss on the skin there. They are cuddled in bed, no danger to threaten them, and though they'll need to end their private celebration and join her friends in an hour, she cares only about the warmth of his arms around her. "I like you alive."

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

"Of course you do." He smiles gently, running a finger down her side. "It's your dream, Buffy."

She frowns, but doesn't chastise him.

It's never his fault that truth hurts.


	49. 3,12

Faith shakes her awake. "Having a nice dream?"

Buffy glares up at the younger girl for a second, not bothering to attempt to run away when she knows she's been chained to the wall. "I love you," she says though she knows it's pointless.

Faith shrugs. "I loved you, too. _Everybody_ loved you, that was the problem."

"If you had given me time, I would have helped you."

The line across Faith's left cheek bleeds. Or perhaps she's crying. "We made our beds, Buff." The school is coming down in flames around them. "Now we need to lie in them."


	50. 3,13

Buffy woke up to unrelenting darkness. Hadn't she escaped the burning high school? Or was she trapped under the wreckage? Angel had been running beside her; had he made it?

Would anyone save her if he didn't?

"Tap-tap-taptaptap," a familiar voice singsonged. "Who knew I could leave blood enough for such a panicked heartbeat?"

Buffy turned blindly towards the sound. He was well. He was safe. He was… teasing her. "I love you," she blurted, shocked because she'd meant to say the opposite.

His silence didn't last long. "I don't need to take you back to a hospital, do I?"


End file.
